


A Shrill Silence

by kobra_kidd



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 10:00:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14788373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kobra_kidd/pseuds/kobra_kidd
Summary: Ryan has a lot on his mind. Thinking was pretty much a hobby for him. Every moment of the day he'd be lost in thought. Though he was creative and intelligent, he kept every thought to himself. He wouldn't dare to speak. Only his journal knew his thoughts. His worst nightmare is to have it taken away from him...





	A Shrill Silence

Responsibilities were the least of my worries. I didn't really care for my actions. That trait made people think negative about me.  
Everybody tried their best to avoid me. I don't know exactly who they thought I was, but I was sure there was a reason behind their actions. I wanted to know. I wanted to know why I was always left to be the last one. I wanted to know why I have changed so drastically over the past few years  
About two years back, I cared. I constantly made sure that I was doing things correctly. People genuinely enjoyed my presence. I wasn't left behind. It was rare for me to be alone. I don't know what happened to me, but overtime I lost all the trust I previously had. I missed those days.  
Many thoughts lingered in my head. Thoughts I wished to share with the world. Thoughts that people wouldn't care to take the time to pay attention to. I was isolated in my head. I kept each thought in a journal. A journal I would ultimately leave on the floor for somebody to discover. They'd be forced to listen to me. Then I'd finally be satisfied.  
\---  
I was in my room, lost in thought. I was playing with a pocket knife. I wasn't planning on hurting myself, it was only something to fidget with. Each thought that crossed my mind mattered to me. I spent a lot of my time thinking. So much that I considered thinking as a hobby.  
I took out a pencil and my journal and began writing down everything that I was thinking. None of them were meaningless to me. They all made me feel something. A sensation I couldn't describe. It was like millions of centipedes were crawling on my bare skin.  
I decided that I had wrote enough by the time I occupied 4 pages with thoughts. It was a lot: My handwriting was small and cramped together, so it appeared as if it was nothing.  
I yawned as I closed my journal and dropped the pocket knife on the floor without flipping it closed. It was almost 4 in the morning and I was beginning to feel a bit light-headed and dizzy. It had been a few days since I've slept properly. It was obviously affecting my health. I made my way to my bed and almost immediately passed out.  
\---  
I woke up at 12 at noon.  
I never wake up late. Never.  
I wasn't allowed to oversleep.  
I sat up in my bed and held my head. This was the first time I've done this. I had a schedule to follow. I had to leave the house by eight in the morning. I didn't want to see my dad. He came home an hour ago.  
I hate my dad. My dad hates me. He hates that I never talk. He hates the fact that I enjoy being lost in thought. He hates the fact that he must pay for my medications. He hates the fact that I refuse to take the medication. I hate the way he hates everything I do. I hate the way he looks at me when he sees me.  
I got out of my bed and grabbed my bag. I made sure I had my wallet, bus pass, phone, and my journal.  
I was so desperate to leave the house without my dad noticing me. I listen through my door. I heard him murmuring something to himself. I didn't understand, but I could tell he was pissed off about something. I couldn’t leave my room.  
He was there. I couldn’t leave. Panicking, I decided to leave using the window. I open the window and punch the screen out. It hurt so badly, but I comforted myself knowing that I'll be away from my dad.  
I pushed myself through the screen and closed the window shut. I ran as fast as I could into the woods. There was an abandoned path I could follow leading to civilization. It took about ten minutes of walking alone, though.  
I was running as fast as I could. I punched the screen hard, so it made a loud ripping noise. My dad might catch me if he gets curious. I make a few turns before I made it to the woods.  
I was finally able to catch my breath once I made it to the woods. I was away from my dad. Away from my fears. I breathed heavily as I continued my walk normally. I hummed inaudibly to myself as I kicked my feet at the dirt trail I was following. I was safe. I had to repeat it over and over to myself. I was safe. It’s okay. My dad doesn’t know I’m here.  
Soon, I made it to the complex.  
I walked to a local café. I went there almost every day, though I never actually ordered anything. The staff was fine with that, to my surprise. I’d use the time I spent in there to write in my journal. The place was usually unoccupied at this hour, so it was a great place to stay.  
I sat down alone at a table meant for two people. I threw my bag on the vacant seat. I pulled out my journal and started writing. For some odd reason, I hesitated for over a minute before writing. My mind seemed to be blank. My mind never went blank. As my mind collapsed, I began to unconsciously push my pencil onto the paper. Enough for the sharp lead to snap. I was dragged back into reality and took out another pencil. I started writing, even though my mind was lacking thoughts. I only took up one page in the span of an hour.  
I wasn’t proud of myself. I never allowed myself to lack thoughts. I slid my journal across the table and slammed my head down onto the counter. I didn’t deserve to have a mind that breaks down so abruptly. I didn’t deserve to have a mind in the first place. Who thought that my existence was a good idea? When was the last time anyone enjoyed my presence? Nobody cares. Nobody cared in the first place.  
I should stop acting like a child. It’s been a rough day. I was feeling sick last night. Maybe I caught a cold. But even if I wasn’t feeling good, there was a reason why I wasn’t home. I wasn’t allowed to go home. Maybe I should take a nap where I am. The staff here doesn’t seem to care about my actions. I buried my head inside of my hands and fell asleep. It was probably for the best: I didn’t want to feel sick for another day.  
I woke up at seven. The café was busier than I have ever seen it. Every seat was occupied with somebody. Everyone was talking loudly. Loud enough to wake me up to notice them.  
Fuck.  
There was a crowd forming at the entrance. It seemed impossible to escape. What made it worse is that mobs of people triggered my anxiety. Anything could go wrong.  
What if somebody has a gun?  
What if someone tries to kidnap me?  
What if somebody tries to ask me a question?  
What if we all get help hostage and I end up stuck with these strangers for hours?  
What if-  
I cut my chain of thoughts off before my fears become too obvious to the people around me. I throw my journal into my bag and slowly stride to the entrance, not saying a word. I felt sweat begin to form on my palms. My knees were beginning to buckle on me. My head was starting to heat up.  
As casually as I can, I slid my way through the intimidating crowd. I held my breath as I constantly checked to see if somebody was watching me. It felt like hours until I reached the door. I ran out of the building and started to walk back home. If my day hadn’t been so chaotic, I would’ve stayed out for a little while longer. I still felt ill, but I just assumed it was from the crowd I encountered.  
\---  
I ran into the house and into my room as quickly as I could. Being home an hour earlier than usual was risky. My dad could’ve been anywhere. I slammed my bedroom door, out of breath. I was safe. I threw my bag on the floor and laid down on my bed. I couldn’t stand the aching in my stomach and head. I tried sleeping it off once, but my plan resulted in humiliation and panic. But this time, I was home.  
The thought that I was home didn’t comfort me so much. My dad was inside of this house with me. At any moment, he could show up at my door. The last time I encountered him I ran away. I was too scared to say anything to him. That was last month.  
I felt unbearably cold. I immediately wrapped myself into my thick blanket and turned my portable heater up. I laid there for hours, hoping that I could warm myself up. I ended up falling asleep, no thoughts to occupy my mind.  
It was just a bad day, right?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction so I'm desperate for advice! It would be very appreciated!  
> I took inspiration from A Splitting Of The Mind by Shoved2agree. Please read their work!
> 
> xoshimo


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